


In Bloom

by Hallemcready



Series: Cockles Ficlets [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Jensen, Insecure Jensen, JMDV - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Petal Drop 1.0, Polyamory, Rimming, Romance, Schmoop, Top Misha, jensen's accent kink - Freeform, mention of children/families, scheming wives, vulnerable Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallemcready/pseuds/Hallemcready
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jensen misses the Petal Drop, he decides Misha needs to be pampered. With the help of their wives, he surprises Misha with a grand romantic gesture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sternchencas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/gifts), [CthulhuKittie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CthulhuKittie/gifts).



> This is my contribution to the first CocklesBigBang! It's also a part of my existing cockles series, it's a bit longer than the others but it exists as a part of the same timeline. 
> 
> A huge thank you to the lovely Kumofu/Sterchencas for the gorgeous artwork!! See the masterpost here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7147802
> 
> Also a heartfelt thank you to Cthulhukittie for being my beta XD
> 
> Aside from the lovely edits from my artist, there's also several well circulated photos of the Petal Drop 1.0, and a photo of the rooftop I had in mind. Please check out the link at the end for a wonderful cockles vid my amazing artist created!

 

Being on set right now is especially trying, and Jensen finds he’s having trouble keeping his head in the game. He remembers what is happening today. He replays all the conversations he's had with Misha and Vicki over the past few months in his mind, mostly conversations about their time spent on California farms collecting flower petals. He thinks about the first time Misha mentioned their plan, the latest in a long history of daring and unusual ideas. Jensen remembers having trouble picturing exactly what they had in mind, but he knew, in his very bones, that it would be every bit as breathtaking as they had envisioned.

Jensen fancies himself an artist, he is an actor after all. He's also a musician, though that last title has taken much convincing, from Misha, and their friends, that he deserves it. So while he considers himself ‘creative’ in the most common sense of the word, Jensen thinks of Misha (and Vicki) as visionaries. They’re ‘creative’ the way Picasso was ‘creative’. Jensen simply lacks the words to describe their genius. Deep down Jensen is intimidated by that kind of brilliance. He could never admit it outloud but, that’s the only reason why he shied from Misha when the man hinted at wanting Jensen to participate.

Jensen tries not to remember the disappointed and confused look on Misha’s face, or the knowing and slightly sad look on Vicki's. That woman is a force to be reckoned with, and Jensen is not afraid to admit she could kick his ass.

Jensen shakes his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his mind. He needs to get into Dean’s headspace, he has a scene here shortly, but he just can't seem to get there today. He starts humming Led Zeppelin to himself, it's a trick that usually works.

Just as Jensen starts to sense himself slipping into that familiar space in his psyche, he feels the vibration in his pocket. He should ignore it, he knows that, especially with how distracted he is, but he can’t help checking his phone’s screen.

Whatever he expected, this wasn’t it. It’s a text from Ben (Edlund) with a photo attached. It reads:

**Jensen my friend, we missed you today. You really would have loved this.**

 

Jensen’s breath catches in his throat because now he can see it. Now he understands what all of Misha’s animated diatribes about ‘organic meets industrial’ had meant. He can finally understand what Misha and Vicki had been trying to describe.

Jensen wishes he had been brave enough to go now, and his chest aches with an acute sense of loss. He knew far enough in advance he could have arranged shooting around it, hell, if he had shown any interest Misha would have rescheduled the damn thing to accomodate Jensen because he’s just that amazing.

Before Jensen has time to work himself into too much of a mess, or even reply to Ben, he hears a PA shout his name. He tucks his phone back into his pocket and tries his best to mask the conflicting emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

***

Shooting does not go well that day. In the end, they get some useable footage but no one is happy with the final results, especially not Jensen. He's been so obviously off today that everyone; actors, crew, and even Jared, gave him a wide berth.

After being released for the day, Jensen trudges back to his trailer and kicks off his boots. He hears them land with a loud thwack somewhere near the far wall as he makes his way to his well-stocked liquor cabinet. He could've caught a ride back to his apartment for the night with Clif and Jared but he really doesn't want to spend time in anyone's company right now, even for the short duration of that drive.

After pouring himself a generous serving of whiskey, he digs his phone out with the intention of stalling replying to Ben by checking his notifications and maybe texting Dani (it’s late and he doesn’t want to risk waking their daughter with an unannounced phone call). But when he gets a look at his screen he sees he has another unexpected text, this time from Matt (Cohen) from much earlier in the day. He tries not to dwell on how he had been avoiding his phone after his little meltdown this afternoon.

**Hey J! I’m down here at Misha’s thing with Mac and it’s awesome :) I thought you might want to see, I have some good pics on my phone but check this out dude, it’s all over twitter right now. Have a good day on set!**

Jensen almost drops his glass. Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind first. Misha is always beautiful, but this image is so stunning he's having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that he gets to have this gorgeous man in his bed.

Soon after though, that sense of loss is back stronger than ever, now accompanied by jealousy. Jealousy that other people got to see Misha’s face lit with the soft glow of diffused light as flower petals rain down around him, and he didn’t get to see it because he was having one of his mental blocks about feeling inferior or something.

He downs the rest of his glass, relishing the burn in his throat as it grounds him in the ‘here and now’ and pulls him from his spiral of ‘what could have been’.

He realizes, as he clears the fog from his mind, that he’s been an ass. Just because he’s having some sort of self-worth issue, because he’s in this polyamorous relationship with this beautiful and fucking brilliant man, does not mean he shouldn’t be supportive of Misha’s endeavours. He knows Misha has been feeling vulnerable about this, he always does when he bares a part of himself so thoroughly, and that’s what this art installation is, he realizes. It’s basically a part of Misha’s soul on display for the world to observe and absorb and criticize. He feels protective… possessive of Misha, and while he admires Misha's ability to share himself, he doesn't think everyone deserves to see this part of one of the loves of his life. Jensen knows he’s been counting on Vicki to carry Misha through this when deep down he knows he’s really responsible for protecting that soul too.

Jensen can’t help but dwell on the accuracy the image of ‘organic and industrial’, ‘soft and hard’, as a visual representation of the man he loves so much. If it were possible to peek inside Misha’s mind, Jensen imagines something similarly contradictory and perfect is what you would find. He doesn’t even realize he’s pulled up Misha in his recent contacts until he sees his thumb press dial and momentarily panics about what he’s going to say, or about what time it is (he has no idea honestly).

Misha’s gruff but alert voice answers, belying his fears of having woken him at least.

“Hello?”

“Hey Mish. Sorry it’s so late.”

“No J, it’s alright,” Misha’s voices lilts up at the end, making it sound much more like a question, as if he's prompting Jensen to confirm it is in fact alright, “you okay?”

Jensen isn’t sure how he does it, but somehow Misha can always tell, even now just from a few syllables, when Jensen is in need… of comfort… or reassurance… and doesn't that just make him feel shitty all over again. Misha knowing that Jensen needs support when Jensen has been blind to Misha's needs.

“I saw pictures… of today. It was beautiful.”

He can hear Misha breathing, probably trying to parse out Jensen’s discomfort, and the truth of his words.

“Was it?”

Fuck, of course he hurt Misha’s feelings with his perceived disinterest.

“Of course it’s beautiful. I’m sorry. I’m an ass, I just…” Jensen pauses, trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts this late at night, and somewhat tipsy now if he’s being honest, “it’s fucking breathtaking... it’s got you all over it.” And then he adds much quieter, “I wish I had been there.”

Jensen almost misses Misha’s whispered, “me too”, because it’s just that soft and scared sounding. Jensen’s eyes sting and he realizes suddenly he’s blinking back tears.

Jensen clears his throat before speaking, his voice a little too raw to his own ears, “I’m really proud of you baby. I’m sorry I haven’t been more supportive, I guess I just feel... out of my depth with this stuff.”

“Jensen… I just want to share ‘this stuff’ with you, I'm not trying to pressure you. Really. And thank you, if I make you proud of me then I’ve succeeded more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“I want to go next time… Would that be okay?”

“Of course that would be okay, I'd like that very much… Get some rest J, you’ve had a long day, I can tell.”

“Yeah, I have. You can always tell huh… You’re too good to me, you know that? I love you Dmitri.”

“Love you too Jensen.”

Jensen waits for Misha to end the call before he lowers the phone from his ear. He wanted to hold on to the warm feeling that hearing Misha’s voice gave him. He shouldn’t feel so shaken, he had fixed everything between them after all, but he couldn't help it. Jensen always felt like he was so lucky to have this whole arrangement with Misha and their wives, like it was too good to be true. Especially after all of the ups and downs it's taken them to get here, he doesn't take anything for granted anymore. Deep down he’s scared to death he’s going to wake up one day and it would be gone, like he dreamt it all, or worse, he fucked it all up somehow.

Jensen’s phone stops those thoughts from progressing any further when it vibrates, indicating another text message. After all of the introspection his previous texts that day have caused, he understandably hesitates before looking at it.

When he does take a look at it, he's surprised to see it's from Vicki, and if that doesn't make his heart race…

**I don’t know what you said, but I’m glad you said it. He needed that conversation. Good night Jensen, we love you.**

Something settles warm and solid in Jensen’s chest reading that. It was contentment, he realized. He sent off an impulsive “I love you” text to Dani before he laid down on the couch. He was tired and needed to decompress. He needed to let things sink in, but mostly he needed to sleep.

***

It had been a few weeks since the petal drop and things had been especially good between Jensen and Misha. They had been closer, more tender with each other. Jensen hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what had happened, how their relationship had been better than ever, but also how something still felt unfinished to him.

Jensen had been paying more attention to social media lately, especially now that they were in the middle of their You Are Not Alone campaign. Unfortunately, the campaign had predictably caused that small group of loud assholes to gang up on Misha. It all seemed to be escalating and Jensen wasn’t sure what else he could do, short of telling them all to fuck off (though that might get him in trouble) to get the point across. Of course Misha was playing it all like it didn’t bother him but Jensen knew it was getting to him. He had been talking to Vicki and Dani about it too, they were all worried about Misha.

Misha has always had a habit of internalizing criticism. He plays it off like he’s unaffected but he’s actually much more sensitive than he lets on.

Jensen wants to do something special for Misha, has wanted to for quite some time, though he’s still not sure what.

He can’t help but keep coming back to those petals. Eventually he broke down and asked Vicki, where they got them, what kinds of flowers they used, how they went about collecting them… She was infinitely amused by Jensen’s romanticism.

He has to plan it out carefully for a weekend when they’re both free of obligation. He makes sure the kids are looked after, that Vicki can circumvent Misha and help surprise him… to say it’s been complicated is an understatement. Who knew they had such busy lives? He can only imagine how hectic their schedules would become if either one of them ever became truly famous.

After several brainstorming skype conversations, and much torment at the hands of their wives, Dani and Vicki helped him fine tune the details, and otherwise polish up his good but rough idea.

******

Misha thinks he’s joining Vicki for a lunch with friends of her’s in Los Angeles. She's already packed his bag and snuck it the car before they leave their house (this is one of those instances where she is actually thankful for how easily distracted Misha can be).

When they pull up outside the posh hotel Misha finally looks up from his phone.

“What’s going on Vic?”

Vicki's smirk was either a very good sign, or a very bad one.

“Well, you're going to get your bag out of the trunk, and then you're going to go into this hotel.”

“You packed a bag for me?” This was definitely a setup, Misha just wasn't sure what the intention was yet.

“I just said that didn't I?” That comment, followed by her arched brow, was a pretty big indication he would get nothing more in the way of information from her.

“Okaaaay… I guess this is my stop then. Will I see you later?”

Vicki simply leaned forward and kissed him.

“Have fun baby.”

Misha got out of the car, grumbling to himself “well that's not ominous at all,” then frowning at his wife's laughter.

Misha can't help but feel like he's been played as he watches his wife drive away, holding only his overnight bag and his phone. He stands there a minute longer, weighing the possibilities. Eventually Misha sighs, and seeing no other option, he heads inside.

Misha takes in the decadence of the lobby. It's old Hollywood, ornate, but classy. Modern touches added throughout have brought it away from that gaudy look that so many of these places fall into.

A young man wearing slacks and a vest startles Misha. He’s usually more spatially aware, especially after Minneapolis, but he didn't hear the kid’s approach. This whole thing is throwing him for a loop right now.

“Excuse me? Mr Collins? I'm sorry, I just need to give you your key.”

“My key?”

“Yes, I've been instructed to give you your key to the penthouse where your companion is waiting for you. Do you need any help with your bags?”

It takes Misha's brain half a minute to catch up before looking down at his duffel bag. He doesn't think the kid is being intentionally condescending, he probably just asks everyone, but the oddness of the day has left him feeling exposed, like a livewire, and it's hard not to say something caustic. He takes a steadying breath, thankful for meditation and his ability to calm himself in most situations.

“No I'll be fine, thank you.”

Misha walks over to the elevator, he feels a little wobbly if he's being honest. He really has no idea what to expect, and normally that would be okay, he's definitely up for spontaneity in general, but something about this feels...significant. Though he couldn't pinpoint why if he tried. His gut is telling him that whatever is waiting for him is important, and Misha has learned the hard way over the years that he should always trust his instincts.

When the elevator doors open he tries not push the button for the penthouse too roughly when it doesn't work the first time. Belatedly, he realizes it doesn't seem to be working because he needs to insert his key card in the slot next to it before the button will light and the doors will shut.

The ride up is quick, and quiet. No one else is in the elevator, and Misha is thankful for it. He tilts his head back against the glass, letting his eyes close as he steels himself for whatever awaits him.

When the elevator stops its ascent and the doors part, he finally opens his eyes.

Misha isn’t sure what he was expecting, but this isn’t it. The penthouse is beautiful and over-the-top luxurious in a way he will never get used to no matter how successful he gets. He can see through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far end of the suite that there's a pool, and it looks to be private to this penthouse. It overlooks the city and he can see part of the ocean further away. It’s all gorgeous.

 

But the part that has his heart racing are the flower petals everywhere. They are blanketing the floor, the bed, the furniture… As he walks inside he can see the same treatment has been given to the outside space as well. They are even floating in the water.

Misha sets his bag down on the bed and notices there are pieces of paper littered everywhere as well. He recognizes them too. They're the same ones they had used at the petal drop, in fact, he thinks these may even be petals from the same types of flowers. He picks up one of the papers, feeling the weight of it in his hand, and the smooth texture between his fingers… it somehow makes this all feel more authentic to him. It grounds him some. It’s only then that he notices what’s written on it..

It’s Jensen’s handwriting.

At the Petal Drop they had asked people to write down one of their favorite memories of Los Angeles on these papers. Each one of their art projects has been a love letter to the city that gave he and Vicki so much. It appears Jensen has filled it in with one of his own favorite memories of the place he too once called home.

In his messy and looping semi-cursive handwriting, Jensen has written, “The time Misha and I went skinny dipping at the beach in the middle of the night. We almost got caught -but it was worth it.”

Misha remembers that, it had been back when they first started to try and figure out what this was between them. It was years ago and yet Misha can still remember the vaguely scandalized but mostly exhilarated look on Jensen’s face. That had been the first time Misha had ever seen Jensen so… free. He made himself a promise that night, that he would continue to try and help Jensen feel that way as often as he could. Sometimes it bit him in the ass, but mostly it lead to many incredible experiences, and the kinds of memories that gave him strength when he found himself in a dark place.

Misha is startled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Dmitri.”

“Jesus Jensen, what… what is all this?”

Jensen averts his eyes, suddenly finding his nails very interesting.

“I know it's a bit romcom, but I wanted to do something special for you Mish.”

Well now Misha felt like an ass.

“Jensen look at me.” It wasn’t until they made eye contact, and Misha could see all of the uncertainty and pain there, that he realized what this was really about. “This is beautiful, I’m touched. Really.” He paused then, taking a look around, “How did you do all of this?”

Jensen looked nervous. He rubbed his palm up and down his denim clad thigh before answering, “I may have had some help, getting the right flowers, and... the, uh...cards you guys used. And Vicki of course brought you here so…” he cut off then. Misha could see the flush rising up his neck, it made him feel such affection for this man he got to spend his life with, he couldn’t help but pull him into to a bone crushing hug.

They held on to each other, just breathing the other’s scent in, reveling in the feel of the other.

When Misha spoke, it was quiet, his lips moved against Jensen’s neck, causing him to shiver.

“Why did you do all of this J?” Misha thinks he knows the answer, after all the conversation they shared after the Petal Drop is still fresh in his mind, but Misha has learned his lesson. Him and Jensen have to say these things, out loud to each other. They've both been trying to do that more lately.

After a moment of weighted silence, Jensen finally answered. His words were spoken into Misha’s hairline, the intimacy of it making what he had to say all the more important, he willed Misha to really hear him, everything he said and everything he didn’t.

“You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me. I know I don't show you enough. But you deserve that everyday. I wanted to do something so you would see… I fucking miss you Mish. We’ve been so busy and I wanted some time for us, and…” Jensen was struggling with this.

“It’s okay Jensen. Thank you. I love all of this. You don’t need to do all of this, I know what I mean to you.”

“You really don’t Misha, I’m sorry I haven’t been as supportive as I should've been, I love you and I… you need to understand...”

Misha pulled back, gripping Jensen by the chin until he would look at him.

“It’s okay Jensen… what is it?”

Jensen took a breath, and then the floodgates opened.

“Misha you are this selfless, inspiring, complex, and fucking incredible man. You manage to make everyday more interesting and you find beauty all around you, even in things the rest of us overlook. Every experience you have, the good and the bad, becomes a part of you and makes you even better for it. You take care of everyone, I mean everyone... strangers, your friends, your family. You feel this responsibility for like all of humanity and Jesus… you're always trying to do everything you can to make it better. You take care of me all the time, you make me tea when I don't feel good, and you cook food that's good for me, even when I give you shit about it, and it’s always fucking delicious. You can read my mind sometimes, I swear, you always know exactly what I need but won't ask for. You are always putting me back together... and I'm scared to death that one day you'll look around and realize I'm definitely getting the better deal here and you'll walk away from me for good.”

Misha was out of breath. He was scared, and delighted, and grateful… and a million other things all rolled up into a storm of emotion this man always seemed to cause in him.

“Jensen, you take care of me too, ya know? You make me feel whole. I need you so badly, I could, and have, written pages about how deep my feelings for you run,” Misha tried to ignore Jensen’s raised eyebrow at that, “…sometimes I'm sure you can just see it in the way I look at you. Like I.. I...”

Jensen whispered, “Like you can see into every part of me? Like you... want to... possess me? or something?”

Misha whispered back even quieter, “yes.”

“I want you to. I want you to have every part of me... I was always yours anyway.”

“Well then we're even J, because you've owned every tiny part of me since the day we met.”

Jensen kisses him then. He's overwhelmed with everything Misha makes him feel. He tries to convey what he's feeling with his mouth, his hands, and line of body as he pushes Misha back into wall behind him.

They break apart, their need for oxygen winning out --if only temporarily. They give each other the barest amount of space, sharing breath from one man's open mouth to the other.

“Fuck… This isn't supposed to happen… Well not ‘till later anyway…”

Misha's laughter makes Jensen smile, and dissipates the heat between them enough to think.

“I got all kinds of food for us, even those kale & feta pastry things you love. There's all kinds of tea, wine, beer… Whatever you want.”

“Tea… Definitely tea. No alcohol yet.” Misha pecks Jensen on the mouth, just a press of warm lips, a silent ‘please’.

Jensen moves away from him with a wink. It's then that things start to sink in. Misha begins to understand how much effort Jensen put into this, how much thought. “Let’s start with the tea, and then I want to read all of the notes you wrote.”

Jensen makes them both green tea, humming as he goes. Of course he makes it exactly the way Misha likes, and then they go around the suite together, collecting the note cards. They brush against each other when they can, fingers, arms, hips...all idly touching whenever they get close enough to one another.

The two men make their way outside, Misha picking up every piece of paper he sees, his arms overflowing with them. Jensen trails behind him, with their rapidly cooling tea at this point, eyes never leaving the gummy smile on Misha's face. Any reservations he may have had about this idea rapidly fade as he sees how much this obviously means to Misha.

Once Misha seems satisfied that he's found every note there is, they take a seat poolside on one of the overstuffed luxurious bench seats. With their thighs pressed together, Misha spreads his loot across both their laps.

After a sip of (mostly cold) green tea, and a kiss flavored as such, Misha starts picking the notes up one by one. Some he reads aloud, some he does not, though Jensen doesn't miss the way Misha's fingers handle each one with such reverence it makes his eyes prickle.

Of course all the seriousness is obliterated when Misha's surprised laughter destroys the quiet of the moment, followed quickly by a sharp smack to Jensen's shoulder.

“You ass! You really had to go and include this moment in your grand declaration of love for me?”

Jensen can't help the blush that works its way up his cheeks at Misha's wording, though he leans over to see what he had put on the note card anyway. Honestly, he had written so many over a period of several months, he's a little nervous. He could have written anything and not remembered.

There in Jensen's messy scrawl it says “The time Jared threw your clothes up in a tree.”

Jensen can't help his snort of amusement. He doesn't remember adding this particular memory, he was probably drunk.

“I'm sorry baby, but it's a good memory.”

The look Misha levels at him definitely makes him dial down his own mirth a notch or two.

“Okay, I get it, it was a shitty thing to do to you, but look-- we hadn't known you that long yet, you and I weren't… well we weren't yet. I had you guys over for a bbq and swimming and it was the first time I got to see you in anything outside of wardrobe and you wore those hot as fuck blue trunks… The first time I had you at my house… The first time I really saw you let your guard down outside of work or work related --things… Then you shocked the hell out of both of us when you just climbed the tree like it was no big thing, grabbed your clothes, and jumped down with this triumphant smirk on your face and… It kinda blew my mind… you were this hot badass and... You've never stopped exceeding my expectations since then…”

Misha just kind of looked at him. “Jesus Jensen… I don't even…”

After a beat, Misha got this mischievous glint in his eye. He stood up, setting all of the notes back down on the seat. He quickly drained the last of his mug of tea, and then set it atop the notes, presumably to keep them from getting blown away by the near constant breeze on the rooftop. Misha then began stripping his clothes off, revealing his toned bronze body to Jensen at an agonizingly slow pace, if Jensen's strained expression was anything to go by.

Misha bent down, giving Jensen a fabulous view if he does say so himself, removing his shoes and socks. Standing back up in only his jeans, he slowly lowers the zipper, but leaves his pants in place.

Jensen can't help but swallow at the fucking exquisite view of his lover’s happy trail and hip bones. It's painfully obvious Misha isn't wearing underwear. Unless he was in wardrobe, or a con (because who knows what can happen there), Jensen knew he usually didn't wear any.

“What are you doing D?” Jensen couldn't help the way his voice sounded like it had been scraped out of his throat, nor could he help the use of his intimate nickname for one of the two loves of his life.

(Jensen had taken to calling him Dmitri on occasion, especially when alone. One drunken night, when Jensen was feeling especially sentimental, it had gotten shortened to D, and that had been that. The irony that he also occasionally called Dani by the same initial was not lost on them, or their wives. The women had thought it was precious and still give Jensen shit about it.)

“I'm giving you a new memory of my wet body to replace the other --minus the humiliation inflicted on yours truly, of course.”

“You weren't totally naked then.” As soon as the words leave him, Jensen wonders why the fuck he was arguing about this. Apparently Misha wonders the same because the arch of his eyebrow speaks volumes.

“You're right, I had on my swim trunks. If you'd rather I not be nude right now I don't have to take these off? Or are you saying that you wish I had been naked back then? Because you know Jared was there…”

“Fuck, no babe… I just…” What the fuck is he thinking? Before Jensen can insert his foot any further into his mouth he decides to stop talking.

Besides, Misha is looking way too fucking pleased with himself and he needs to even the playing field a little. As Jensen starts stripping his own clothes off, he feels the scales tipping back in his favor and he can't help but feel a little smug. He sees the way Misha's fingertips turn white as he grips his own jeans. Jensen's victory is short lived though, Misha has that dangerous glint in his eyes again.

Jensen is transfixed as Misha hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and slowly pulls his jeans down. Inch by inch, his half hard cock and well groomed pubic hair are exposed. Followed closely by his fucking glorious ass and thighs.

Jensen hadn't realized he had stopped moving, his pants pulled half down his legs, but he couldn't take his eyes off the sight before him. The sun was beginning to set and the way the light reflected off of Misha's olive skin, well… He was stunning. So stunning, in fact, that Jensen attempted to keep undressing himself while watching the man in front him like some sort of personal fantasy come to life. He didn't notice his foot had caught because not a moment later he toppled forward gracelessly. It was only the aforementioned wet dream of a boyfriend, who caught him by the arms, that kept him from face planting into the cement of the poolside.

Once he was safely on his ass and not on his face, he heard Misha's throaty laughter fill the air around them. Now watching your naked lover laugh at you with his half hard cock bobbing in your face is not the boost to the ego you'd want on a romantic night like this. Jensen couldn't help the embarrassment filling him up so he did what anyone would do… He shoved Misha backward into the pool.

The man landed with a loud splash and popped back up almost immediately, sputtering water and looking properly scandalized. Now Jensen was rolling onto his back laughing.

“Okay Jackles, get your ass in here now before I drag you in by your ankles.”

Considering his pants were still somewhere near his knees, that got him moving. Once rid of every stitch of clothing he jumped down into the water, splashing unnecessarily as he went, like a giant puppy or something.

Misha rolled his eyes fondly, reaching for Jensen across the water. After getting some laughs out of the way, they calmed some and floated closer to one another, just taking in the breeze and the darkening night sky and city lights. The pool around them is like something from a dream as the petals still cover a large part of the water’s surface. The actor's fingers snagged and tangled together deep beneath the pink foliage, keeping them buoyed to each other.

“Thank you for all of this.” Misha's voice filters through the air, not much more than a quiet murmur close to Jensen's ear.

“Of course. I'm glad you like it.”

“Very much so.”

“Can I see those pages you wrote about how much you love me?”

“Not a chance.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot.” Jensen answered with a smirk.

“Hmmmm… Maybe one day, but tonight? Tonight... I'll do that thing with my tongue you love…” Misha rumbled the last bit as he closed in and pushed Jensen against the wall of the pool behind him. Jensen ends up boxed in by Misha's deceptively powerful arms, his beard rasping across his skin as Misha kisses his neck.

They kiss languidly, enjoying the press of their lips and tongues. Eventually the heat building between them reaches a fever pitches they rut against each other.

“Babe, let's go to bed. This is really fucking hot but pool sex is not as fun as it sounds.” Jensen pushed Misha back by his shoulder, only half serious. He truly doesn't want to stop, simply change location.

“Maybe you've just never done it right hotshot.” Misha says almost flippantly. He then proceeds to ignore Jensen's indignant look as he pulls his naked self up out of the water and proceeds to fucking strut back inside.

Jensen probably stays in the water a minute too long after that but the visual of Misha’s naked backside dripping water as he saunters away like walking sex may have broken his brain. Just a little.

After a moment, his mind catches up with the proceedings and he scrambles out of the water. Inside Misha is standing next to the bed, his skin only slightly damp now, one hand on his still naked hip.

“So what did you have in mind Mish?” Jensen bites his lip, it's a natural reaction but the way it affects Misha is definitely a plus.

“Get on the bed, hands and knees Jenska.”

Fuck. Nothing got Jensen's motor running faster than a little Russian thrown into the mix. He obeyed quickly, seeing where Dmitri would take this.

Misha crawled up behind him, his hands touching, possessive and reverent.

“ **прекрасный**.” Misha growls out, his hands stroking Jensen's back and sides. Jensen really loves this side of Misha, and Misha knows it too.

He feels the older man laying kisses down his spine, whispering more words of praise into his skin “ **любимая** ” and “ **великолепный** ”. Then before he realizes what's happening, Misha is laying a kiss to swell of one of his ass cheeks and he's being spread open by those elegant hands.

Rimming is one of those things Jensen had no idea how amazing it was until Misha showed him, now he fucking lives for this.

Jensen buries his face in the pillows as Misha takes him apart with his tongue. Slick sounds fill the room as he reaches back for a fistful of Misha's dark hair. He uses it to grip the man's head, pull him closer, encourage him, drive him deeper. A silent ‘please more’.

After what doesn't feel like nearly long enough, Jensen could do this all night, Misha pulls back and he hears the click of a lube being opened. He's not sure where the older man got it but Misha is something of a Boy Scout when it comes to sexual preparedness.

A moment later Misha is draping himself back over Jensen, chest to his back, blanketing him. He feels the blunt head of Misha's cock pressed against his hole. Jensen reaches back, grabbing at his muscular thigh, a wordless plea to continue. As he pushes himself inside, Misha grabs his other hand still by the headboard, intertwining their fingers. When he's fully seated they both groan with the satisfaction of it, of being joined so completely.

Gentle rocking, a chance to stretch and feel each other out quickly leads to a forceful push pull of their bodies. Only parting just far enough to drive in deeper with each thrust.

After one particularly deep thrust Misha pushes in as deep as he can, just grinding against Jensen's prostate. He rears up on his knees, pulling Jensen's hips closer to his own with a near bruising grip.

“ **Блядь** ” Misha groans. The deep rumble of Russian (and Jensen could swear that one was an expletive) never fails to drive him over the edge.

Sensing his own orgasm approaching, Misha reaches around with one hand to stroke Jensen, matching the rhythm of their thrusts.

Feeling Misha push hard one last time before his hips stutter and then comes deep inside him is all he can take. Jensen reaches his own climax, growling the name ‘Dmitri’ as he spills across the sheets below him.

Jensen is supporting Misha's full weight, and the guy is all muscle, but for the moment it feels perfect.

Once their breathing has returned somewhat to normal, Misha wraps an arm around him and pulls him away from the wet spot, spooning up behind Jensen on their sides.

“Thank you J, for everything.”

Jensen simply pulls Misha's hand up from his waist, intertwining their fingers once more, before brushing his lips across the man's knuckles. He feels Misha smile into the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing tighter back against the man.

“Love you D.”

“ **я люблю тебя.** ”

Jensen doesn't need a translation for that one. (He's heard it many times.) He simply smiles a little wider as he pulls Misha tighter around himself.

*******

I apologize for any incorrect translations, I don't speak Russian so I went with google translate.

 

прекрасный : lovely

любимая : beloved

великолепный : magnificent

Блядь : fuck

я люблю тебя : I love you

********

Also see [this lovely vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NY9-7bsk43Y&feature=youtu.be) Sternchencas made for this story <3

**Author's Note:**

> Title also comes from one of Jensen's favorite musicians. Sturgill Simpson's Cover of 'In Bloom' https://youtu.be/NpDYfkymaSE


End file.
